Warning Signs
by Oparu
Summary: After landing on Hoth, Luke's not the only one who doesn't know what hypothermia looks like, luckily Han does. Watching him look after Leia, Luke realises there are a few other things he hasn't yet noticed. Mild Hurt/Comfort, Leia with hypothermia.
"Han!" he calls down the corridor, jogging to catch up with him.

"Yeah, kid?" Han turns slowly, tugging his scarf free from his jacket. "What is it?"

"Leia's patrol came back."

Han blinks, and relief rushes over his face. He quickly buries it, trying to hide it between what passes for his professional look. "What happened?"

"Speeder shorted out." Luke tilts his head towards the north entrance. "They had to walk to high ground and wave down another one. They're overhauling the rest of the speeders now, protecting the electrics, but they were out awhile."

Han turns immediately, heading for the north entrance so fast that Luke's again jogging to keep up. He could mention that Leia's only been gone six hours, that she's probably fine, but Han's been on edge since she left. Luke almost agrees, Leia didn't need to go on that scouting mission, but maybe she's sick of being cooped up in the control room and wanted to see the sun.

Of course, it's her mission that has electrical trouble.

Mechanics swarm the speeder as Leia, Lieutenant Tylanth, and their rescuers land. They stumble out, the lieutenants to report, and Leia to insists that she's fine, of course she's fine.

"Her lips are blue," Han says, almost to himself. He pushes past a mechanic, past the commander giving Leia his report on fixing the speeders and hardening the electronics.

"What?" Luke repeats. Before he landed on Hoth, he'd never known cold. Desert nights were the coolest he'd experienced and they're entirely different from the biting, brutal cold of Hoth.

Leia stands next to the speeder, her hand still on it. Everyone around her is talking but she's quiet, not speaking, and that doesn't make any sense because she always has something to say. He looks for Han, but he's already up to the ship, making straight for Leia. He takes her hand from the side of the speeder before Luke realizes that she hasn't let go of it because it's holding her up.

She mutters something in protest but her knees buckle, and then he scoops her up into his arms, like something out of a holoplay. Luke runs, and when he's close enough he can see that yes, Leia's lips are blue, so is much of her face. She's almost as pale as her white thermal suit.

"What's wrong?"

"She's hypothermic," Han says, his words quick and sharp. Shifting her weight in his arms, he scans the room. "Is medical set up yet?"

Luke shakes his head. "Still unpacking." They only landed a few days ago and they're still cutting through the ice for rooms and corridors. The medical ship's in orbit, but they'd have to haul her up there.

"Chewie!" Han yells over the din. Now everyone notices their princess half conscious in Han's arms and they start to swarm closer. Voices mixing together in surprise and concern.

Chewbacca cuts through the crowd like a laser blast, his grumbling changing pitch when he sees Leia. He barks, waving his arms in worry.

"Get two spare heaters onto the _Falcon_ , turn up the thermal shielding, and blankets."

"Captain Solo-"

"We will talk about getting everyone up to speed on what hypothermia looks like tomorrow, Commander," Han snaps, and there's real authority in his voice, the deck officer jumps. "Can't believe we didn't cover that in the safety briefing." He follows Chewie through the crowd, carrying Leia towards the _Falcon_.

"What can I do?"

"Go to the mess, get something hot and sweet, not caf."

Luke nods and heads away while Han carries Leia onto his ship, snapping orders at the pilots around him.

When he returns with a full thermos of reconstituted cider, mechanics have already dragged portable heating units onto the _Falcon_ , and the long cables lie on the floor like snakes. In the captain's cabin, Han has set her down on the bunk, and Leia's boots lay near the door, thrown haphazardly.

Chewie putters with thick blankets.

"They gave me cider."

"Good, help me get her undressed."

"Undressed?" Luke swallows. "We can't do that. She's cold."

Han doesn't even look at him. He's entirely focused on Leia, and the fastenings of her thermal suit. "And she's not making herself any warmer. All her thermals won't help if we can't get her warm on the inside. Take her coat."

That's thrust into Luke's hands, and he drops the thermos to the floor beside the bed. Together they remove her snow suit, and her first layer of thermals. Han stops, tearing off his own heavy coat, then tugging off his shirt.

"Chewie, grab the blankets."

"Why are you getting undressed?" Luke asks, Leia's outer socks in his hands.

"Gotta warm her up, kid, and unless you're volunteering-"

Luke looks to Chewie, who rumbles something he can't catch.

Han pulls his last shirt off, exposing his chest, and climbs onto the bed next to her, stripping her down far more gently than he did himself.

"Yeah, I know we need to get her awake," he mutters to Chewie. "I'm working on it."

When they're both down to their underwear, and Luke's more uncomfortable than he thought he could be, Han grabs one of the thermal blankets and wraps it around them both, pulling Leia to his chest. Chewie tucks them in, adding more blankets until they're barely visible, just Han's worried face and Leia's unconscious one.

Body heat is the safest way to warm someone up," Han explains, shifting his arms beneath the blankets so Leia's close to his chest. He winces as he pulls her in. "She's freezing. Look, thermal regulators work too, but they need to be set up, have time to heat."

"I don't understand, she wasn't shivering."

"That's bad," Han says, his voice sharp and still full of an authority Luke's rarely heard from him. "When you stop shivering, your body's started to give up. We drilled on this at the Academy. You Rebels need to get more Imperial washouts who took survival and first aid sucked into your rebellion before you all freeze to death."

"You could teach it," Luke says, sitting down on the floor next to the bunk. "Her lips are still blue."

"Yeah, don't know how she was standing."

"I'm serious, you could teach the survival class. You knew what you were doing, saw her lips before anyone else did." Luke retrieves the thermos, turning it over in his hands. "Unless you watch her-"

"Don't go there, kid."

Luke removes his coat, because it is warm now with the heaters humming all around them. "I'm just observing that you were very conscious of how she looked."

"I pay attention to a lot."

Leia's eyes flutter, and they don't open, but it's the first time she's moved. That has to be good, right?

"Her eyes moved," he says. "Her lips aren't quite as blue, more purple."

"Leia?" Han whispers behind her. "Leia, can you hear me?"

Her eyes move again, still not opening, but her lips part, and her chin moves, just a little. Is she shivering?

"What's happened?"

"She's shivering," Han says. He'd know, he's right up against her.

"Why? She's warm now."

Han sighs, shifting in the bunk behind her so she's snug against his chest. "She was too cold before. The body gives up, tries to save what energy it has left. She probably thought she was okay."

"She always thinks she's okay," Luke agrees. Leia starts to shiver more violently, and it can't be comfortable holding her, but he keeps his arms around her. It's weird, almost calm, even though Han's face is so worried and Leia still hasn't opened her eyes.

She coughs, maybe it's more of a moan, but her teeth chatter enough that it's difficult to to tell. Her eyelids flutter and finally they're open. She struggles for a moment, fighting to get her arms out of the blankets.

"Hey, princess, you're okay, you're okay. I've got you."

She calms immediately, comforted by his voice. "Han?"

"You got a little cold, so you're going to be foggy for a while, it'll pass. The kid and I have you."

Luke watches her eyes close, and she continues to shiver, but somehow she's content that Han's holding her. He suspected something, they were so often together as they scouted the planet, when they worked together, and they're constantly arguing, sometimes it seems just so they can keep talking to each other. The way Han holds is intimate, gentle. He strokes her hair.

"Han?" She whispers, when her teeth finally start to slow.

"Still here," he answers.

She half smiles and Luke has the urge to disappear, to vanish, because maybe he shouldn't be watching this. It's too soft. She was so afraid until Han spoke, then her entire demeanor changed. He felt it.

"I'll see what else I can get her to drink," Luke says, before he retreats, leaving them alone. In the corridor, Chewie grabs his shoulder, then puts his hand to his mouth in a gesture of quiet.

"Yeah, I got that."

Chewie rumbles something, then presses another thermos into his hands. Luke opens it, whatever's inside is warm, sweet and heavy. It's definitely not something he's had before. Chewie speaks slowly, emphasising his words. Luke doesn't get all of it, but his meaning is clear: Han can take care of her.

"I'm getting that too."

Ruffling his hair, Chewie makes a happy noise and they stand in the corridor together, waiting. Luke's not sure what they're waiting for, until Han calls them back in.

Leia sits up against pillows now, still wrapped up in enough blankets to look like even smaller than she usually does. Han sits beside her, holding the thermos and keeping an eye on the cup in her unsteady hands. He still has his shirt off, and Luke's attention is drawn to the long scar on his side.

"You look better," Luke says, grinning as he approaches the bunk.

Chewie echoes his sentiment, then starts speaking quickly with Han, and Luke loses what he's trying to say.

"I can almost feel my hands," Leia replies. Han takes the cup out of her hands the moment they waver, and she gives him a small smile. "Han promises me feet are still there," she winces, "but they just hurt."

"Circulation coming back is not a lot of fun, trust me." Han grabs a shirt and pulls it back on. He lounges on the bunk next to her, somehow appearing calm, even comfortable. "Chewie agrees with your idea."

"What?" Luke wonders. "What idea?"

"I teach you idealistic knuckleheads how to survive in the snow, starting with the warning signs of hypothermia and moving on to fun stuff like frostbite and keeping your fingers." Han says.

Leia smiles, really smiles, and she almost looks well. "That would be a great help to us."

He takes Chewie's thermos and pours her a thick cup of the brown, sweet-smelling thing. He hands it to Leia, wrapping his hands around hers to help steady her. "And you, next time your feet go numb, tell someone, okay?"

She nods, suddenly shy. "When they stopped hurting, I thought it was getting better. I don't remember much else after that."

"You got lucky," Han says, leaning close enough that he could almost kiss her. He doesn't, just fixes her hair, but he should have kissed her. She wanted that.

"Lucky you were here to save me?"

"I smell a little better than Chewie," Han teases. "Though, he throws heat like a reactor, so if you're not careful, next time I'm snuggle you up with him, princess."

Leia wrinkles her nose and they start arguing and Luke just stands there, listening to them try their best to offend each other, all the while, Han's hand sits on her shoulder, and she's almost snuggled up next to him, and they're almost together.

Shouldn't be long.


End file.
